


Like a Melody

by riversoftime



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-03-03 15:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversoftime/pseuds/riversoftime
Summary: If Melody William existed, in Pete's world ? If John Smith met her ? Was it necessary she was River Song and him the Doctor to entangle their stories ?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well.. I'm still french, english is still not my native langage. I hope I don't do too many mistakes and it's still readable. It will be a long fanfic. All chapters are written, they just have to be translated. Thanks for reading my foolish ideas.

 

It was one of those late summer afternoons, when the sun lit golden rays on the Kensington Gardens. Some student groups had gathered there to enjoy the last days of vacation before they get back to school.. They had invaded lawns and they laughed, conversed or, for the more studious, started to revise for the new year.

John Smith was walking hurriedly through the park, paying no attention to them. He was moving forward, unsmiling, carrying some books and documents to support advanced physics classes he would give, at the beginning of the year, in the prestigious Imperial College London.

He was a handsome man, objectively. Tall, slim, athletic, he seemed to have thirty-five years old. He was wearing a brown pinstriped suit and a long beige coat despite the heat, giving him a distinguished look. It wasn't uncommon for female looks to stop on his lovely face, on his brown spiky hair, on his dark deep eyes, which he often hid behind black rectangular glasses. It wasn't uncommon for those same women to be astonished about the sadness in the look of such a handsome man. He seemed keep carefully a strange distance between him and the rest of the world. Though many women looked at John Smith, few people dared get near him.

But it would have been difficult to compare what was going to happen to a approach attempt.

John wasn't warned of the impending catastrophe by anything. A moment he was thinking about Rose, the bitterness of words she had thrown at him that very morning, the next one he was violently head-on struck. He dropped his books and fell backwards, unbalanced, and closed instinctively his arms around the body that had ran into him. A documents rain accompanied their fall and he landed painfully on his back. When he opened his eyes it was just to see a puff of red hair and wide water green eyes.

"Oh damn it, I'm sorry!"

The girl, because it was a girl, leaned against his chest and straightened immediately, leaping on her feet and biting her lips, ashamed. He quickly did the same, staying crouched to gather his books and the stranger's documents.

"No problem," He succinctly answered without looking at her. She quickly began to help him, grabbing a small blue book she had dropped and slipping it between two textbooks. He noticed the color of the book - weirdly familiar – but deeply brushed away in his mind this distant and vague memory. The impertinence of her words indeed left him flabbergasted, temporarily stopping his mind's inner workings.

"You were in the clouds, isn't it ?" She said.

He raised up his face, his hands stopping their job for a moment, and he looked into her green eyes. That really was going too far ! She was the one who had run into him ! He was pinned by the fun which was dancing in her bright eyes. A laugh shuddered at the corner of her lips and her nose, full of freckles, was wrinkled by joy. He didn't notice the little smile on his own lips.

"And you had the devil at your heels to run like this ?" She shrugged and stood up, hands full of documents. He imitated her action, sorted out the documents he had picked up, and returned her her stuff.

"When I run people get out of my way usually." He wavered between annoyance and laughter at this insolent answer. He just smiled when he saw the mischievous expression hadn't left her lips. She was kidding.

Well ... he thought she was kidding. Now that he was looking at her, it seemed very likely she was actually telling the truth. She was young, really young, he didn't think she was much older than her twenties. She was tall, and she certainly had to draw attention with her endless legs highlighted by the short jean shorts she wore. And yes, she was pretty, as girls often are at that age. It wasn't a classic beauty however, despite her long wavy hair which seemed to try to curl, her graceful waist and her light green eyes. She had a nose too strong, with a funny little bump on the top, and the redhead color of her mane was too fiery.

But she was beautiful. John's dark eyes didn't detail her for more than one seconde - while she was picking up her documents - but that was enough for him to realize it. It wasn't an opinion. It was a fact.

She was beautiful as only few women are able to be. These women who doesn't know that their beauty winds around them like a heady perfume. It was one of those kind of beauty which went well beyond a pleasant face or a graceful body. No doubt she would be watched at all ages of her life. So, yes, everyone certainly noticed her enough to get out of her way when she ran.

"Who are you ?" He asked thoughtfully.

He nearly startled when she held out her hand, keeping her things against her chest with her other arm. "Melody Pond, nice to meet you !"

He frowned and pointed with his chin her documents. He hadn't been curious, but his brain was the one of a Time Lord, despite his - sadly - mortal body. He'd had time to read a couple of lines.

"I thought I had read Melody Williams." Her nose wrinkled and she gave him a bright smile as he shook her hand.

"Mummy says Melody Williams is a geography teacher, while Melody Pond is a superhero. I prefer a superhero's career."

This time he couldn't help but laugh. A light laughter. "So there is a superhero class at university ? Tell me where enroll in, I might be interested "

She tilted her head and observed him for a moment, staring him. "I think Indiana Jones is a superhero, so I'm doing a PhD in archeology at the Imperial College London. Does this career interested you ?"

He moans inwardly : A future archaeologist, it was just his luck. A vague sentence came back to him - _I point and laugh at archeologists_ \- but he kept quiet. Something was wrong. She had said PhD ? Well, eight years was required to become a doctor, at least !

"Arn't you a little young to become a doctor?"

Melody looked up at him, always with the same little smirk - was it a constant state with her ? - and patted her temple with a finger. "It moves really fast in there. But you still didn't answer me"

He raised his own books in front of him, allowing her to read titles "Unfortunately, I'm more a scientist. Dusting myths is not my domain, and I don't think I would care. Never mind for my career"

He had arrived two years ago in Pete's World and he hadn't had any trouble to pass the degrees that would allow him to teach. In his mind too, it was moving really fast. Far too much, actually.

Despite all of the efforts he made to try to adapt to this world, he found his existence dull. Sometimes he wondered if it wouldn't have been better for him not to survive the events that had brought him there. He was a Time Lord in a human body, a failed duplicate actually. A metacrisis. At first he had thought it didn't matter. He had Rose and it was the only thing that mattered. Maybe they could be happy.

She had taken a job as a saleswoman while he got his degree. And, for a while, he thought it was okay. But Rose was bored with their daily life. One part of her blamed him - without ever saying it - not to be the other.The real Doctor.

And it made him unhappy to not make her happy. He was also bored with his life. He missed the stars. He missed run and challenging situations for his mind. He often thought he would do anything to swap places with the real Doctor. Maybe then he could be happy again. Maybe then he would be able to make his beloved Rose Tyler smile again.

Melody pulled him out of his dark thoughts when she wrung her neck to read the title of one of his books.

"'The Higgs Boson : Searching for the God particle' It's about particle physics, isn't it ? Do you realize that before you could see it with the Large Hardon Collider, the Boson was as much a myth as those studied in archeology class ?"

The tenth Doctor - or the metacrisis tenth Doctor - widened his eyes, then blinked. To regain his composure he brought his glasses back to his nose with his index finger. But who was this girl? He really didn't think particle physics was taught in archeology class. Or things had changed. He was speechless for a moment, then leaned toward her. Damn it, she was tall. The difference between them didn't exceed 4 inches. She leaned toward him as a mirror, and tilted her head, wrinkling her nose in a tic he already guessed as familiar.

"Are you looking for a witty repartee ? Or are you reconsidering your opinion about interest of myths and archeology in general ? Because, you know, there are still seats in amphitheater if you change your mind. You could still become a superhero "

The burst of laughter, frank and amused, escaped him even before he realized it. Either she was brilliant and remarkably stubborn, or she was crazy. Anyway, it was unexpected.

John thought it had been a long time since he had laughed with a stranger like that. And the smile she offered to him, just to him, was refreshing. He realized that he liked the simplicity of their talk.

He was about to ask her if she had a few minutes to share a coffee, or a tea, or whatever she pleased, when he was interrupted by a loud voice.

"Come on, Song !"

A handsome blond young man, with rippling muscles under a tight shirt, looked at them. Looked at her, in fact. Melody turned to the stranger, raised an arm to him, then replied, "Yes, one moment. I'm coming !"

John raised his eyebrows, stunned "Song ?" Somewhere in the back of his mind, ancient wheels began to creak. Some coincidences knocked at the doors of his memory, without he could make it out. It was still unclear, but something tickled him, like a pebble in his shoe.

Melody's warm voice already answered him, not giving him time to dwell on the feeling.

"Oh, you know, it's a silly pun with my name. He thinks Song is a funny nickname for Melody"

The one who considered himself like the tenth Doctor's duplicate blinked. Time to find something to say - it was an uneasy feeling to be "rendered speechless", with her - she had already waved and had turned around to run into the dude. Melody clung to the dude and kissed him madly.

John didn't know why he felt a weird sense of unease. A pinch to the heart (his only heart) that he shouldn't have felt. It was definitely a strange girl.

Shaking his head, he went his way to university.

  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to thank Kurisutori618 for her great help. I'm not better in english, she just took time to reread all my chapter and correct my mistakes.  
> So it's because of her if my words are less wobbly.

 

September finally arrived after an endless summer holiday.

John was delighted to find he was using the same exact office space, he had the previous year as a doctor in physics. It was a small office, difficult to find as you can be lost in mazes of the historical monuments of the Imperial College London, but it suited him just fine. At least he had a beautiful wooden door and a floor that had been trampled by generations of teachers and a centenarian bookcase to put his books back. He liked the marks of Time on things. Was it any wonder when you knew who he was?

Two weeks had passed, since he met the strange girl, and he hadn't seen her anymore. He has forgotten her, by the way. Well, practically. More accurately, he relegated her in the back of his mind, when the memory of her smile came back. After all, he wasn't going to meet her anymore. And he didn't look for her.

Of course, she had been like a ray of sunshine that day and - if he had been the Doctor - he would certainly have taken her to see the universe. She had that "something" he was looking for in his companions. But here, he wasn't The Doctor. He was John Smith, professor of physics at Imperial College London.

 

Someone knocked on his office door. It had to be the technician who had to change the plaque on his door. After all the degree was wrong since June. He was Professor John Smith now.

"Come in!" he said without looking up from the book he'd taken out of one of his well-stocked bookcases, with his back turned to the door.  
"Doctor?"  
He froze for a few seconds under the familiar title, and his book slammed closed too strongly. Then he turned quickly, eyes wide in surprise. It was her. Melody Pond. What the hell…?  
"How ..? Why .. Why are you calling me like that?" And here it happens again. He was losing his words. She was a superhero, she was right. Her bloody superpower was to make him stammer.

If he were being honest, it was as much as her presence in his office, as the name she just had given to him that made him feel a burning sensation in his chest. No one called him Doctor. He was no longer The Doctor. Even Rose didn't call him that since they came into this world. In addition, she had never called him like that. Because it was the other…. Her Doctor. He was John Smith. Her Jony Love, when she was affectionate.  
He must have stared at her too long, during his thinking, because Melody raised a surprised eyebrow in his direction, before pointing at the door with a finger.  
"That's what is written on your office plaque. Dr. John Smith” at his lack of response, her voice grew unsure, “Why? Is there a mistake?” and then her lips curved into a sly smile “It’s Secret Agent John Smith, isn't it? Now, I should warn you, your name betrays you."

He couldn't help it. He grinned, amused. That was her second superpower, making him smile without reason.  
"It was supposed to be Professor John Smith, actually. Since June." He walked toward her in three long steps, without taking his eyes off her, and avoided noticing her allusion to his pseudonym. Devil of a girl.

This time, she wore jeans, and her long red hair was plaited at her back, making her almost wise. Once again, she was holding a book against her chest as she watched him getting closer, without moving.

"What are you doing here? Have you finally come to your senses and decided to enroll in a real study program?"  
He couldn’t help it, teasing her was too tempting, even if he more curious to know how she managed to find him. And why? The answer to the second question didn’t take long. Melody wrinkled her nose at his proposal, as if disgusted, then handed him the book she held.

"And spend my life trapped with old scientists half-mad? No thanks!"  
Hey! That's offensive!" he couldn’t help but exclaim, taking the book without a thought.  
"My bad! You're not completely decrepit yet, I agree," he sniffed and pulled his glasses back on his nose, with feigned outrage.  
"And no apology for the ‘half-mad’ part?"  
She shook her head, mischief clearly through her light green eyes "Oh, you're right, sorry! You're interested in time travel, you're entirely mad."

" _What_!?"John said. He would have bet his eyes were out of their eye sockets. Astonishment prevented him from saying any more, and he just looked at her, quite sure he resembled an owl. He blinked, when she pointed with her chin the book he hadn't looked at.  
"The other day, you gave me one of your books by mistake. Between the Higgs Boson and the Gravitational waves, it's not difficult to guess what interests you."

He lowered his nose to the book and read the title : _Ripples in Spacetime: Einstein, Gravitational Waves, and the Future of Astronomy_  
Melody had taken advantage of those few seconds to get around him and step forward in his office, dawdling around the bookcase. She continued, tilting her head to read some books titles.  
"I allowed myself to read it. It's quite exciting. I knew Einstein had theorized the curvature of space-time, but I didn't know the existence of gravitational waves had been proven. However, the question still remains about Graviton, isn't it ? So, I'm right for now, you're absolutely mad to think you can travel back in time."

She looked back at him, with a smirk, and John jumped. He had not realized, he had turned to stare at her. But who was this girl ?! Who was this girl, who was reading hard science books like others were reading thrillers ? And for god's sake how did she find him, in the first place?!

"Mind you," she continued, as if the discussion was perfectly natural, "I now understand better why you don't want to start a career in Archaeology. If such trips, were possible, Archaeologists would become pointless ! Can you imagine ?"

"Quite well, yes," happy to get out the whole sentence. He had regained control of his voice, even if it came out, more grumbling than he would have liked. He hoped his legs were as cooperative as his voice, as he sat in his chair behind his desk. He laid the book in front of him as she sat on a corner of his desk, legs dangling, without asking his permission. Then she leaned toward him, indifferent to his seemingly grumpy eyes. Her eyes sparkled happily as if she had considered the issue for a long time and was delighted to finally talk about this.  
"Well, let's imagine for two seconds that you're not mad and that's possible. Just for argument's sake, right ? We've already established that you're mad ... "

He blinked. She does realize that she was talking to a man fifteen years older, and to one of her university's professors? Probably yes. And - probably - she didn't care. This girl was the epitome of impertinence. He went out of his thoughts just in time to hear the end of her sentence. "... temporal paradoxes?"

He had no problem to guess the parts he had missed.

Of course, she had thought of the temporal paradoxes that could result from time travel. Well, if she wanted to talk about that, she met the right person. John outright grinned at her, not knowing that his eyes were sparkling like hers. He put his elbows on the desk, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on it. The discussion promised to be exciting.

 

It was.

  
Melody was brilliant, incredibly, and absolutely brilliant. Her lively and curious mind bounced back on his arguments, on his ideas, followed the thread of his thoughts, without having to explain each development. It was refreshing for him and his Time Lord mind. He really loved humans, had always loved them, but they were - for the majority - so slow ! Melody mastered advanced concepts of physics and astronomy, while others were totally unknown to her, and John was beginning to understand how his brain worked. He easily imagined her, spending whole nights documenting herself when something piqued her interest, to appease her unquenchable thirst for knowledge. It was a pleasure to teach her things she didn't know. She easily grasped concepts and made the connection with those she mastered.  
Time seemed to slip while they discussed, the sun's rays moving quickly over the wooden slats of the floor. They ended up drifting on Archaeology, then on the London's monuments beauty, and Melody fumbled in her bag, holding up a finger to him to be quiet.

She pulled out a blue book, the same one he had seen the first time. Only this time he had plenty of time to detail it. It was the same blue, the same tiles embossed on the cover. It was the same one as the one owned by the Archaeologist he couldn't quite forget ... This River ...  
The universe, at times, was unnecessarily cruel with its analogies. He swallowed, and the smile he had had on his lips for more than one hour faded away.

Melody didn't notice his confusion. She quickly flipped through the book, with pages damaged as if handled often, then she leaned toward him, across the desk, so he could take a look at the page she wanted to show him.  
They were sketches - remarkably accurate - of the Tower of London, seen in many ways.

"You see, there is no need for time travel machine in London. I could spend my life walking the streets. History is waiting for us at every turn!"

He found himself reaching out to take the notebook. He wished to see more sketches, but she promptly smacked him on the wrist with her open hand.

"Don't touch ! You want to see more ?"

She settled more comfortably on his desk, blew back on a strand of a red hair that had escaped from her braid before sliding back with a distracted hand behind her ear, then began to show him, and tell him, the wonders that she had discovered during her strolls.

 

They spent another few hours thus, as they compared and debated about their knowledge of London and its History.  
At one point, he couldn’t help it and tap her nose to hush her quiet, certain to be right about the exact date. After all, he was there that day. She wrinkled her nose in reply and he wondered if he had been too familiar then she smiled, conceded this point, and they resumed their battle of wits.

The shadows stretched out in the office as the afternoon turned into evening, and he startled her when he lit the lamp on his desk to give them more light. She jumped lightly from her improvised perch, putting her notebook in her bag.

"Damn it ! I didn't realize the time passed so quickly! I promised Mom I'll help her to plan Dad's birthday this afternoon!" She frowned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, she will be furious !"  
"Your mother can't really be that bad ?"  
Melody looked at him then winked, failing to hold a smirk. "If I tell you she's Scottish, does that answer your question ?"

He burst out laughing as she closed her bag and walked quickly toward the door.

"Wait, you didn't even tell me how you found me!"

She had already opened the door and had begun to walk through it, ready to go. This girl was an Electron, a pure electron colliding with his life, who seemed to have decided to go in and out of it abruptly, without his permission.

"There was your name on the first page!"  
"John Smith ?" he blinked, "You found me with only John Smith ?" his voice expressed his disbelief and he shook his head. How many were there to bear this name, just in London alone ? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack!

She shrugged, "I would've found you without it, if I had to. You were nothing more than an enigma I wanted to solve. It was enough to start a trace and find you." All Right. She wouldn't tell him anymore and he had to deal with that.

"But ..." She interrupted him. Bloody Electron.  
"Sorry, I _really_ have to go. Till the next time, Doctor!"

He felt a shiver go down his spine at his last word. Doctor. The surprise of hearing her call him like that again made him lose a second, his mind - though a brilliant one! - froze, then he exclaimed, "I'm a Professor! Not a Doctor!"

But he had been too slow, the door was already closing. He raised his face just in time to see her red-haired head disappear and heard her laugh as a sole reply. She had done it on purpose, the impertinent one.

The _Professor_ stared at the closed door for a few seconds as silence re-invaded his desk. His office, which for a few hours had reasoned with his exclamations and her laughter. From Melody, there remained but a vague fragrance in the air. Jasmine, maybe ?

Coming out of his thoughts, John Smith shook his head thoughtfully and went to put the book she had returned to him on a shelf. He didn't notice he was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The evoked theories are real, whether it is the boson of higgs where the gravitational waves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krystle, many thanks for your help !

 

The Cold was making its way to England in this mid-October, accompanied by its dreary friend, the Fog. On this Saturday morning, there were few people who were reckless enough to have ventured outside. That was why John Smith could quietly enjoy the tranquility of Kensington Gardens. He liked to take those long walks at a brisk pace, sheltered by hundred-year-old trees, and the solitude soothed him. At least he was really alone, and not accompanied by the ghost of the woman he loved.

That morning, once again, the breakfast with Rose had been complete silence, and they had barely glanced at each other. He kissed her as always, before leaving on his way out, but this shared loneliness was killing him slowly. He had always been a man of words, a man of action, how can he keep surviving this slow agony that engulfed him?

John kicked a stick lying in his way, clenching his fists in his long sand-colored coat. At this point, he was almost hit by a jogger who brushed against him at high speed. He raised his head sharply, wanting to glare at the back of the stranger - he knew it wouldn't help but it would make him feel better - when he noticed the jogger was a girl with very beautiful red hair, brushed and pulled back in a ponytail. Melody Pond. _Of course._

"Melody !" he exclaimed after her. She didn't stop, didn't slow down, but instead, outdistanced him quickly, her long legs driving her forwards in a supple and toned stride.

"Melody ! bloody hell, stop ! Pond !"

He started to run after her without thinking, almost sprinting to catch up with her. As he did so, he felt his one heart started racing in his chest. It felt so damn good to run again ! It had always sounded ridiculous for him to go jogging, but it might not be that stupid when there were no other opportunities to run.

He managed to catch up with his Electron at high speed, more than one minute later, and he grabbed her by the elbow to stop her. She stopped in her tracks and he nearly bumped right into her, then she raised the palm of her hand as if she was going to hit him. He jumped back, and Melody's eyes widened when she recognized him. Her hand dropped immediately.

"Doctor, what's wrong with you to scare me like that ?!" The young girl dislodged headphones from her ears while talking, letting them hang free on her sweatshirt, and he now understood why she hadn't answered him the first time. The familiar moniker didn't startle him this time and it felt as if he was slowly slipping back in a suit he hadn’t worn for a long time.

"Is this a thing with you to have the devil at your heels ?" He was already smiling while he caught his breath, and he couldn't help himself but provoke her. He'd never admit it, but she had been floated around his mind like a haunting song, even though he hadn't seen her around since a month. It had irritated him. And he blamed her for that somehow.

"No, only to keep me in shape. Not like you, isn't it ?" The sparkling green eyes detailed him without complaisance and John had to admit that those years without running for his life had dulled him. Unless it was the lack of a second heart to send more blood rushing into his body, which was a high possibility. He still took an offended look, anyway.

"Oi, it's really rude, you know ?!" He slipped his hands into his pockets again, wondering why he had run after her in the first place. This infuriating girl was a pebble in the shoe of his well-ordered life, after all. On the other hand, he – well.. the other him. But he was him too, right ? - had always been attracted by things out of the ordinary. And Melody was anything but an ordinary girl.

"Mind you, maybe I won't be in better shape at your age. Let's sit down for five minutes." She took him by the arm without waiting for his complaints and dragged him to a nearby bench. She was clearly making fun of him, but he followed her without resistance, dropping to the bench as she sat on it back, leaning on her elbows to look at him.

"So, what are you doing here besides chasing harmless girls ? It's kind of _kinky_ , you know."

He snorted, a little shocked, a little amused. The cold didn't make her lose her sharp tongue anyway, but he was glad she didn't ask him why he had gone after her. He would have had a tough time answering her, and it would have been ridiculous to say that he had missed their riveting conversations.

"I was getting a breath of fresh air, just like you, except that _I_ don't need exercise to keep my figure !" he raised his nose when he said that, squinting at her, and his lips quivered with a smile at the end of his tirade. She saw the irony and burst out laughing.

Two minutes later they were in a conversation again, arguing fiercely without paying attention to the few passers-by crossing the park. John could have stayed here for a while, just enjoying that nice little moment, but he saw her shudder. Once. Then twice. The haze had become denser around them and even if he was protected by his thick coat, she wasn't, with her black pants and her gray sweatshirt.

"And if I tell you that my old bones can't stand the cold, would you come with me for coffee ?" he asked casually while he got up. She tilted her face dotted with delicate freckles at him, still sat on the bench back, and wrinkled her nose.

"Is that a really wise proposition, coming from a professor of my faculty ?" Suddenly she seemed serious, and he almost suffocated. Was she kidding him ? As if she had ever respected - or even pretended to respect - his status ! He managed not to stammer his incomprehension, it would have pleased her too much, but he frowned.

"Since it is quite impossible for me to become your teacher one day, because of the absurd career path profession you have chosen, I don't see where's the harm. So, come along, Pond !"

And then he saw it. The little smile she had hidden from him was there, at the corner of her lips, quivering to widen. She had tried to jerk his chain and had been successful. But after all, it was not _really_ his fault. She was devilish, her hair should have been a clue... She stood up like a spring expanding, jumping off the bench, and rubbed her hands.

"You convinced me. _Allons-y_ , Doctor !"

There it was again, the thrill she seemed to arouse in him without meaning to. Those two words, in French, made him blink, and he knew he looked stunned again when she stopped, leaning her head to look at him.

"It's French. That means, let's go. Or did you expect more resistance from me?"

He pulled himself together, shook his head, tenderly irritated, and motioned for her to follow him to a nearby cafe. In this foggy October morning, John Smith felt light.

 

 

They settled near a window facing the street. He ordered a tea for him and a chocolate for her, and they resumed their conversation as if it had never stopped. He learned very quickly, she only knew a few words in French, but she really liked languages and especially the sound of this one. Melody told him that she would take time to learn it in the future, but she was too busy with the Greek and the ancient Egyptian for now. And John couldn't help himself thinking, once again, how amazing this girl was. Her brain seemed to go in eight different directions at once. And she unintentionally confirmed it when she confessed to have the thirst for knowledge since her early childhood.

Two hours passed without them even realising it. On the other side of the window the autumn was coming, and a few golden leaves crossing the fog to die on the gray sidewalk.

It was warm in the little cafe, and the conversations of the surrounding customers were like a diffuse hubbub that formed a little bit more the timeless cocoon that was weaved between them. Little by little the conversation drifted on more personal subjects. He wanted to know a little more about her, about what was throwing that Electron over and over again on his way, and he directed the conversation for that purpose. And Melody, fingers curled around her cup, didn't shy away.

She told him about her parents, the family formed by Amy and Rory Williams - the _Pond_ family, as her mother stubbornly called it. And as soon as she talked of them, Melody's face brightened. There was no doubt about it, she loved them fiercely and was loved by them. She couldn't say enough nice things about them and spoke freely to him about the true love they had for each other, like a talisman leading them along their life. John understood better, by listening to her, how Melody could move into existence with such poise. She had been cradled by confidence and love.

After a brief time of silence and only the sound of two heartbeats, he brushed a hand through his unruly hair, played with his little spoon between his knuckles then asked her, about the blond fop. Was it a serious relationship ? Melody blinked, and he thought - just as last time in his office - to have overstepped another invisible line. But her lips curled, and she burst out laughing.

"Oliver ? You mean Oliver ? Oh, Christ, no ! He's very nice and I really like him, don't get me wrong, but ..." She chuckled again as if he had told her an irresistible joke, and that contagious laugh gave John a smirk.

He didn't need to question her to learn that her parents' love had set the bar very high in her personal expectations of the ideal man, but that she simply refused to wait for him in her tower. He remembered while she was talking: she was a superhero, not a princess.

"You know, when I'll meet him, I think it will be obvious. I don't even think we'll have to talk, I'll just know it's him. He could say ' _Hello_ ' and I would respond the same and I think it would be enough."

She didn't give him time to make fun of it, her nose wrinkled with mischief and she rolled her eyes.

"I know, it's totally ridiculous ! It sounds like a teenybopper when I say that kind of thing, you have the right to laugh at it ! I don't even know how you managed to make me reveal this information. Are you sure there is no law forbidding you to listen as you do ?"

He couldn't help but laugh and he shook his head, promising her secret would be well kept.

"I would like to believe you, but no. I need information about you to be able to blackmail you, or I'll have to sequester you to prevent my shameful secret from being revealed."

John rolled his eyes, more amused than shocked. He was getting used to Melody's irreverence, it was almost disturbing. Because he didn't want to take any chance - one never know - and, above all, because he felt a strange confidence for this girl, he told her about Rose. He told her what she meant to him, spoke briefly to her about the love he had for Rose ... and the distance that seemed to settle between them since an _'event'_. Melody listened attentively, suddenly calmer, her eyes mirroring the tranquil depths of a mountain lake never leaving him.

Then he confided, in a voice he hardly hid the quivering. Because, in front of those eyes, there seemed to be no age difference, no student, and no teacher. There was finally a soul, older than it seemed, to be able to understand him.

"There was an... accident two years ago. We had traveled a lot before, and as a result of this accident, we had to settle here. I think we both tried to pretend that nothing had changed, but it's wrong." He lowered his dark eyes to his empty cup of coffee.

"I've … changed since this accident. And I'm not, or at least not quite, the one she fell in love with."

He startled when Melody put lightly her little hand on his forearm, then he looked up sharply at her. His eyes, at this time, seemed deeply tortured. He couldn't know the expression that twisted his features, but the green eyes on him softened as she read his pain on his face. When she smiled at him, mischief had disappeared from her lips, leaving only sweetness.

"I finally understand." Her smile widened, always with the same sweetness, and he swallowed.

"What have you understood?"

"Why I always saw something so sad, on your face" she finished quietly, pressing his arm for a moment before removing her hand. John closed his eyes for a few seconds, regaining his grip on himself. To confide in this way had strangely made him feel good. And, based on her last words, he wondered if it wasn't for that, that Melody had always been so mischievous with him: To soothe the pain that she seemed to read so freely in him. When he opened his eyes, calm was back on his features.

He smiled at the girl who was facing him, a smile a little tense but true, then decided to change the subject. An idea had sprung up in his mind.

"Do you have your notebook with you ?" She nodded and pulled it out from her trouser pocket, frowning slightly at this whimsical question. He wasn't really surprised that she was carrying it with her. Something deep inside him would have bet she did.

"I always have it with me," she confirmed naturally. He reached out, silently requesting permission to take it, and saw her tense up for the first time since they knew each other.

"I don't let anyone take it," she hesitantly confessed.

John blinked while a flash invading his brain _. I'm not anyone_ , muttered a persisting voice deep in his mind. He remembered that somebody had told him those words, that it had been significant, but he didn't recall who, or when. The memory was stuck on the edge of his mind. However, he repeated with a grin those words singing in him.

"I'm not anyone." She stared at him, motionless for long seconds, then something shone in her clear eyes and she put the blue book in his outstretched hand, with a slightly shaky sigh.

He took time to thank her with a smile. John wanted to communicate quietly with her, tell her with his dark eyes he wouldn't betray her trust. Then he pulled a pen out of his pinstripe suit's pocket, promptly opened the small book on the first blank page he found and quickly scribbled a few lines before closing it and giving her it back. She grabbed it quickly and pressed it to her chest without even trying to read what he had written. Her gaze as clear as water, hadn't left him for a second. He smiled again, tapped her nose with his fingertip, then told her:

"It's a riddle for you. Let's see if, this time, something will make you want to solve it."

Indeed, he had written a riddle in the blue notebook, leading to precise coordinates, at a given point of the Time. It wouldn't be easy to solve it, he had made sure of that, but he wanted to see if she had the interest, and the intellect, to overcome it.

With her, he wanted to play.

As if they both had agreed silently that the time to part had come, she got up from her seat and he did the same. Still keeping her precious notebook against her, Melody nodded in his direction. The shadow of her smile had come back to her lips and she greeted him with a certain lightness, before quickly going away.

"Goodbye, Doctor!"

John shook his head, grinning when he heard her call him that way. She never seemed to call him John. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it suited him perfectly.

The _Doctor_ placed his hands in his pockets, left the cafe, and went home. Rose was waiting for him for lunch.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krystle, thanks once more for your corrections. Without you, my story wouldn't feel right, in english.
> 
> I hope you'll like this chapter, which will change many things in John's mind. As usual there are several references at the real story between River and the Doctor. Let me know if you find them, It'd make me happy.

John had always liked the Seven Sisters. Those white cliffs, diving into the English Channel waters, reminded him of Bad Wolf Bay. It was a time when he thought that everything was possible. He used to come here, alone, on Sundays, despite the miles separating them from London. It was there he had given an impossible meeting to Melody, this Sunday of November.

He had just done it as a crazy test, a challenge and perhaps also - unconsciously - to put an end to the joyful musical notes she placed in the surroundings of his life. John knew she wouldn't come. It was too far, the riddle was too difficult. He had realized, as soon as she left, it was almost unsolvable for a human mind. She wouldn't come.

So it was him alone staring blankly at the tide of the sea, legs half apart, and his long coat beaten by the strong winds blowing over the south of England that day. And that's why he was startled before turning abruptly when her voice called out to him.

"Do you still wear the same suit, Doctor, or have you shares in the pinstripe suit industry?"

There she was. Impossible, lovely, a long red scarf woven around her neck and her fiery hair flying wildly from the wind. There she was. Melody Pond and her bright green eyes. Melody Pond and her smirk. John blinked. He knew that he probably looked like a dopey owl - once again - and, in order to hide it, he replied quickly.

"At least I can take it off ! Unlike the freckles of a sassy girl of my acquaintance!"

Melody's smirk grew then she arched an eyebrow at him. And he knew that he had talked too soon, even before she replied.

"Are you suggesting that you take off your suit ? You’re always so forward with the girls aren’t you ?!” She said mischievously with a certain look in her eye. “Such a kinky man !”

John felt his cheeks blush, ran his hand through his spiky hair, frowned, and stuttered - while cursing internally her damn superpower.

"But .. But I don't ! it's not ..." Then he reformulated, feeling that he was sliding on a slippery slope "I’m .. It isn't kinky ! Why must everything be kinky with you ! Pond !"

But she had already burst out laughing without waiting for the end of his sentence and had already turned around, moving away from him at a brisk pace to discover the place. So John had no choice but to put his hands in the pockets of his coat and follow her. The threatening weather having scared off the gawkers long ago, leaving them alone on the small path bordering the cornice.

Like an old habit that wasn't yet one, they quickly resumed the flow of their conversations. He asked her how she had deciphered his riddle and she obviously didn't answer him, just telling him that she had hitchhiked to get to him. He rolled his eyes, wondering if she was aware of the potential danger for a pretty girl like her, and laid them on her just in time to feel his heart skip a beat. Melody had approached the extreme edge despite the wind, and watched the sea crash its tides against the cliffs below. Her thin silhouette molded into a pair of jeans and a tight-fitted coat seemed too light confronted with the brutal force of nature's fury, and John had the impression that a flurry would be enough to make her fly, as did her long billowy red hair around her face.

He grabbed her arm a bit too tight and pulled her back, growling:

"Blimey, be careful!"

She looked at him for a moment, freed her arm and wrinkled her nose, before shaking her head "Careful ? Tried that once. Ever so dull."

Something in her gaze made him let her go, something awfully close to a silent warning. Melody may have had a delightful smile, but an iron soul hid beneath the mask, and she didn't let anyone dictate her conduct.

John swallowed and just nodded, indicating to her without a word that he understood. Then she resumed her explorations, running and jumping everywhere, a little mad, strongly brilliant, foolhardy and so lively. And always she came back to him - who walked with a calmer speed - clearly restraining herself from pulling him after her, in a rush to get a move on.

It took a good half hour before her over-energy weakened and she agreed to walk by his side, temporarily calmer.

It was at that moment that she began to talk to him about an internship she hoped to win for the following summer, in Greece. She needed to be one of the three brightest students of her class. Only then would she have a chance to be chosen to be part of the expedition team of her teacher, in Boeotia. The girl's eyes shone as she spoke of the site near Lake Copais, and it didn't take long for her to evoke the Greek myth of Atalanta and Hippomenes.

"Do you know she was the only woman to join the Argonauts ? No one, no man, no woman, could beat her in a race and ..."

"And the help of a goddess, Aphrodite, was required by Hippomenes to win a race against her and win her hand," interrupted John with a small smile.

Melody stopped and gave him a scrutinizing glance. Then she bit her lip for a moment and tilted her head.

"You're surprisingly educated for someone who so openly decries archeology, you know."

The grin of the pinstriped suit's man widened.

"I had an old friend of mine who wro... studied ! Studied I mean, the Odyssey"

He had stopped himself in the middle of the sentence, fully aware that he couldn't introduce Homer as an old friend of him without to seem like a madman. And a madman without his box wasn't as convincing as a madman with his box to prove what he claimed, right ?

The green eyes lingered on him a little too long, as if Melody read behind his lie, then the girl buried her nose in her red scarf before resuming their discussion.

They had been walking for over an hour and arrived at the top of the highest cliff when John thought it would be better not to be slow to turn back. The wind was even louder, and threatening black clouds were now obscuring the horizon, carrying a promise of storm.

He turned to Melody, who had come - once again - too close to the edge, and he was about to call her when everything went so quickly.

He watched in horror as a rock came off, just under the ginger's sneakers, and felt his breath freeze in his lungs as she teetered. The green eyes, filled with terror, caught his own and without screaming, she slipped. And she fell.

John Smith disappeared at that moment, and only the Doctor remained. Because it was the Doctor who propelled himself towards her without giving it a second thought and it was the Doctor's reflexes, infinitely more prompt than those of a human, which allowed him to catch her wrist as he collapsed on the ground.

His fingers closed much too tightly around her joint, even at the risk of hurting her, and only then the Doctor breathed.

Before realizing the precariousness of their situation.

Melody was suspended over the void, only kept alive by his grip on her wrist, and he himself was in an unstable equilibrium, half of the chest over the edge, with nothing to cling to and pull them back. He felt other rocks ready to give way under their weight and wind gusts made Melody's body swing against the cliff. He was afraid that her shoulder dismembered at each move. The red scarf had just finished falling into the water, a few hundred feet below, and the waves were throwing the soggy cloth against the rocks. There was no way they could survive the fall.

The wind howled, the surf roared, and yet the silence was deafening.

Melody hadn't screamed when she had fallen. She hadn't yelled when he had caught her, though the pain had probably torn her shoulder and wrist. And she wasn't sobbing with fear now.

He lowered his brown eyes to her, looking for words in order to calm her, and he saw her face was paler. And her eyes locked to him. Those wide green eyes on him, making his heart stammer.

"Let me go."

He received those words as an uppercut in the stomach. He realized then she hadn't grabbed his arm back. Her hand was still open and he alone kept her alive. Seeing that he didn't react, Melody continued, louder.

"Let me go ! We'll both fall if you don't ! It's too dangerous, save your life !"

She was yelling at him now, but all he saw was those eyes. Her eyes. It crushed his soul because he knew that look, even if the eyes were different. Damn, he knew them. He couldn't remember when he had seen it before, not quite, but he knew them.

And this urge to protect him, even at the risk of her life, was also strikely familiar to him, in a terrible way. But he didn't have time to dwell on it, not now.

Clenching his teeth, the Doctor tightened his hold around her wrist, and his gaze became the mirror of Melody's, reflecting the same unshakable will.

"If you fall I fall, Pond. So take my hand tight, and we'll get back up !”

There was an interminable second when she met his eyes, their wills clashing, and he realized that he had stopped breathing only when she grabbed his wrist tightly and he felt the air fill again his lungs.

It took them long time, he thought several times that gravity was going to throw their broken bodies against the rocks, but she finally managed to ride up. Then he grabbed her nervously, circling her waist with his arms, before dragging their two bodies far from the edge of the cliff.

He just sat there, out of breath, dazed, Melody's body thrown across his knees. He tightened instinctively his arms around her frame as he felt her shaking against him.

Nothing seemed to be more important than holding her against him, stroking her back with his hands to sooth her as he felt her heart beat pitter patter like drum against his chest. She wasn't sobbing, didn't speak, didn't move. She was just shaking, and he didn't know where this assurance came from, which he whispered to her ear.

"I'll always catch you, Melody. Always, always."

"I absolutely trust you." The voice was tenuous but it was enough for John to sigh with relief, regaining control over the Doctor. He stroked the girl's hair and then got up, dragging her up after him.

Because he felt her frail body shiver and saw her teeth tighten her jaw, John took off his coat and wrapped her in it, deaf ear to her protests. This one was far too large for her, but he would protect her from the wind, and he was satisfied only after seeing her shake her head and finally snuggle in it, thanking him half-heartedly ... Which made him almost smile , given the pout accompanying this thank you.

They then made their way back, slowly, far from the joyous exuberance of the early afternoon. Silence reigned between them for a moment, only broken by the howling of the wind whistling around them, then Melody sighed.

She fixed her gaze on the path, refusing to look at him, when she asked:

"What are _we_ to each other, Doctor?"

John, his hands in the pockets of his suit, quickly glanced sideways at her. She had half-frowned, serious, and bit her lip.

"Well, certainly more than strangers, right ?" He answered quietly.

She nodded and continued:

"And obviously not only a teacher and his student, otherwise it would be embarrassing that we keep seeing each other outside the university."

John lowered his nose to hide his smile. For the first time Melody had just acknowledged that she enjoyed their meetings and that she felt, too, the urge to see him again. He should have been mad at her, that she risked their two lives by not listening to him. But he wasn't, not really. He felt alive, and it was a feeling he had forgotten for too long. This infuriating, endearing, mad, wild girl... This girl allowed him to feel alive again. Maybe that's why he looked at her again, with a hesitant smile, stopping himself on the trail.

"I would say friends."

She stopped in her turn and turned her bright gaze towards him. Then he went on, wrinkling his eyes and smiling again to hide his fear of being rejected.

"If you want, Melody, we can be friends."

An amazing smile brightened and softened every line of her keen, kind face. She nodded quickly and he almost chuckled of relief.

"Friends ? Yes, that sounds good !"

John couldn't resist placing his finger on the small bump of her nose before bopping the top of it, in order to seal their deal.

"Perfect, Pond. Now we need to hurry up if we want to avoid the rain. Then you'll tell me where you live, because I'm not going to let my friend hitch a ride to get home."

They increased therefore their walking pace and they eventually ran when the rain caught them. John's pinstripe suit was soaked in no time, and Melody covered her head with his coat to protect herself as they reached the car park and John was on the search for the keys of his old blue car. They were finally safe from the unleashed elements and went back to London, on an almost deserted road.

"Hell, Doctor, are you sure you've had your driver's license ? You change your brake pads every month, don’t you ?" Melody scowled, still wrapped in his coat. John grunted, and his answer was nearly covered by a rumble of thunder.

"You're no more respectful to your friends than to your teachers, aren't you ?"

He _heard_ her rolling her eyes, and was careful not to add that he didn't really expected a different attitude from his Electron. He didn't even admit to himself that it would have disappointed him.

"Next time, I'll take the wheel."

He heard her whisper. Then he saw her, from the corner of his eye, leaned her head against the glass, and cleverly deflected the conversation on less unfortunate matter. After all, he knew how to drive. He drove perfectly well. He even didn't not have a black hole on hand to throw into it his highway code.

Two hours later they finally arrived at the address Melody had given him. The rain had stopped even though the sky was gray, threatening, and the road was shimmering with water. The girl squirmed to take off his coat and gave it back to him. Her jasmine fragrance clung to the fabric, still warm from her body heat.

"I've prepared something for you before I came," she said as he looked up at her. John saw her search in the pocket of her jeans, take out a small paper and hand it to him. He took it between his thumb and his forefinger without looking away, smirking. There was no need to unfold it to know the content. An enigma. A meeting.

Well, since fate seemed so eager to put them together, maybe that was ultimately ridiculous to resist, wasn't it ? He would accept the little music that Melody composed in his life.

John was there in his thoughts when he felt a breath on his cheek, a breath that could be mistaken for a caress, then lips lightly brushed his skin. He barely had time to blink that she had stepped back and opened her door, already halfway out.

She looked at him, a hesitation appeared for a fraction of a second in her clear green eyes, and then she smiled. And he knew, he knew for some unknown reason that this hesitation didn't come from the kiss, but from the words she was going to tell him.

Melody's voice was gentle and a little hoarse when she whispered softly, before slamming the door behind her,

"Goodbye, Sweetie."

At this very last word, John's heart stopped and all the memories came back and intermingled in flashes of light. He suddenly felt dizzy as the puzzle took shape in his mind. The blue notebook. The Archeology. The frightening intelligence. The mischief that made him lose his words. That determined look in her eyes in the darkest hours.

Melody and Song. Sweetie. Williams and Pond.

All the pieces wheeled in his head at the speed of light, trying to assemble themselves.

But the only water in the forest was the river, he suddenly remembered. It was something he had read a long time ago about the people of a planet he had never visited, the people of the Gamma forest. He had said to himself that he would go, one day.

_The only water in the forest is the River._ The final piece.

And then he understood.

Pond and River.

Melody Pond. In an impossible way, she was the River Song of this world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The artwork is mine. Still not perfect, but I just want to show you how I see them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more, thank you Krystle, for your corrections and your friendship !  
> For my readers, I want to apologyze for this slowness, next chapter will be here soon. 
> 
> Like in other chapters, you could find many little winks to the original serie. Tell me if you find them !

 

It took John three days to decode the riddle because it looked like Melody had taken a great delight in complicating this one. And while working on it, bent over his faculty desk long after his classes schedule, he wondered if he had to go. Was not it a cruel trap of the universe? And even if it wasn't, where would it lead them?

He knew who River was for the Doctor or - at least - who she would be for him, one day. There was only one time where he could tell her his name, and even though his mind had struggled with the implications of this knowledge, he knew it. He fully knew it.

The Doctor would see River time after time, until he fell madly in love, until he couldn't imagine his life without her, even knowing her end. John didn't know how, by Rassilon, that simple fact was possible. But the Doctor, the real Doctor, would without a doubt love this infuriating woman and marry her.

But he wasn't the Doctor. And Melody wasn't River. Not really. And even so? In this world, He had built a life with Rose. Rose was the woman he loved and he would eventually marry.

That’s how it should be. Shouldn’t it?

John repeated himself those words as a mantra, day after day, the date and the coordinates of the meeting stuffed at the bottom of his coat pocket. He kept telling himself that, while the mood was getting worse at home. He kept repeating himself that at every argument with Rose, who accused him of cheating and soon harassed him in turn about the identity of this mystery woman who owned the jasmine perfume she had smelled off his coat.

No matter how he defended himself, telling the truth about Melody: she was a friend, she was a student, she was too young for him...

He repeated to himself the mantra, forbidding him to go to the meeting that very morning of the day fixed by Melody, fifteen days after their previous meeting. And then came another argument with Rose, the last straw that ticked him off, and he slammed the door of his house to find his Electron. River, Melody, he didn't care. At that very moment, he only needed her smile to ward off the gravity crushing his heart.

An hour later, he found himself in front of the Rosetta stone in the British Museum. Obviously. Was there any other artifact that smelt more archeology than that stone?

John rolled his eyes, picturing Melody's laugh, proud of her prank. Archaeologists would get him, someday. Rummaging through the inside pocket of his cloak, he took out his glasses and placed them on his nose before leaning close to inspect the glass case. It was with a certain relief that he noticed that he hadn't lost his vocabulary in demotic Egyptian. He was reading the Greek translation of the text when Melody's voice echoed right behind him, bright and clear.

"Hello Sweetie!"

There was no hesitation in her voice this time. John turned on his heels to face her, and was greeted by a kiss on the cheek. And her sweet smile. And her laugh, identical to the one he had pictured, a few minutes ago.

The Doctor’s brown eyes landed immediately on the white cap she wore, hiding her red hair, and he pointed it with his chin.

"Nice hat, afraid to catch cold ?"

Melody put a hand on her headgear and frowned slightly, which intrigued John.

"Yes, absolutely. Air streams in museums are deadly !"

"You know, it's not nice to lie to one of your teachers ?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head, frowning.

"I thought you were a friend ?"

"That’s worse !" he replied, repressing a laugh.

They started walking side by side on those few words, but John couldn't help but tease her several times in a few minutes about her strange headdress. Melody stopped in her tracks, with a melodramatic sigh, and looked up her green eyes at him, frowning.

"You're just going to make fun of me if I take it off." She grumbled.

"Never !” he protested, “Cross my heart" he smiled, making a cross on his heart.

"I wanted to make a perm and it's a disaster, my hair decided to secede from gravity ..." She grumbled with renewed vigor, while removing her cap.

On those exact last words, her hair escaped in crazy curls and twists, pointing in all directions, like a bonfire. She was all dandelion.

For a moment, John thought she never looked more like River, then with this hair. Then the laughter caught him, in front of the contrast between Melody's disappointed look and the way her hair curled in all directions - space hair, really - and he laughed to no end.

Which vexed her a little. She slapped him on the arm, but was unable to make him quiet, and shook her head, making her curls fly and intensifying John's laughter.

"You promised ! I know, it's awful, I'll have to shave it all off !"

This last sentence ceased the effect of John's laughter immediately.

"Never !" he exclaimed, before babbling. "I mean ... I love it ! Your wild hair, I mean. You'll think I'm a mad man but..."

She gave him an eloquent wordless look, to make him understand that she was _already_ taking him for a mad man, and he just sniffed before continuing,

".. But it's ... you. It's fully you, bright, wild and indomitable. Cutting them would be a crime, Pond !"

His bombast made her laugh. And he loved that too.

Without another word he bopped the tip of her nose and couldn't help but pull one of her tightly twisted loops. He had the strangest and incomprehensible impulse to do much more. He imagined burying his hands in the mad mass of her curls, even at the risk of getting lost in them. But he restrained himself. That would have been inappropriate, wouldn't it ?

His laughter slowly turned into a beaming smile as he watched her, and John realized he could not remember the last time he laughed like that. Doubtful if he ever had in that body.

"I haven't laughed in a long time," he told her in one breath.

Melody’s eyes merely met his eyes for several seconds, and then she nodded and resumed their visit as if this interlude hadn't existed. But without her hat.

For nearly two hours she dragged him from one room to another, in order to show him the treasures that made her eyes shine and then those she had loved more than anything. He listened to her speak with such passion, and even admired her in the moment of her making sketches of some paintings in her dear little blue book, and felt his heart just light up every passing minute spent in her company.

She also sketched him too, without him noticing.

"For History !" she said, laughing. And on the sketch he was so alive, and smiling, that John wondered for a moment if it was the same man as the man he met every morning in the mirror.

On several occasions, as they wandered through the museum, the Doctor in John took over and he spoke about myths, stories and anecdotes that John Smith had no reason to know.

And he happened to catch one look of her giving him a strange, conscious, serious, and silent look. Melody listened to him completely. Him. And he knew, to that glare that he caught several times in her clear eyes, that she was beginning to understand that something, with him, was out of the ordinary. But she didn't press him with questions, letting him go to her at his pace. She awoke the Doctor, in him, at every meeting a little more. And that exalted him instead of terrified him.

So, maybe because John was no longer ‘The Metacrisis’ but only the Doctor, with her, he took her hand - naturally - along the way. And he noticed her tiny hand went perfectly in his.

He was ... happy. Just happy, with that simplicity that seemed to stick to all the actions he undertook with Melody.

Another hour passed, her hand in his, as they almost ran from one room to another to share their knowledge. And this last hour seemed to him too short, as always with her.

John was no longer trying to figure out why she was River Song without being her.

It wasn't a cruel joke of the universe, but a gift. For the first time since a long time, he thought without bitterness of the other Doctor. The one who, perhaps, wasn't more true than him. The one who didn't matter in Melody's eyes.

And, squeezing Melody's fingers harder, he wondered if _H_ _e_ 'd ever seen River again. And what she had become, for _Him_.

They was approaching the exit of the museum, the latter was coming to close, when Melody told him that her parents wanted to meet the man who had saved her. They quickly agreed on a day, and John couldn't help but ask if the fop - Oliver, he remembered too late, hitting his forehead, his name was Oliver - would be there.

Melody shook her hypnotizing curls.

"No. I broke up with Oliver, actually."

"Oh ?" mumbled John, with a false levity. The redhead shrugged while pursuing.

"He was really adorable, but I told you he wasn't my true love. He was too bland and, as always, he finally bored me." She tugged at his hand to get him moving faster, and continued,

"And you, you'll come with Rose ? She's welcome, you know, and I really would like to meet her."

John let himself be dragged by her surprisingly robust grip and hesitated before answering. "No ... No, I think I'll come alone, this time. Rose is ... pretty tired those days."

He was grateful to Melody for not turning around at that moment, or she would have seen the flush of his cheeks while he uttered his lie. The truth was that he didn't really want to reveal his secret garden to Rose. After all, he wasn't doing anything wrong, was he?

Without suspecting John's shilly-shallying, Melody continued,

"All right, Doctor, I'll tell my mom. By the way, speaking about the ginger tyrant, I suggest you to bring some sunflowers if you want getting into her good graces."

John nodded and let her lead the conversation, listening absently. They were only a few feet from the exit when he stuck his heels in the ground and stopped, forcing her to do the same. She looked up at him questioningly and he forced himself to ask the question that had tormented him not long before.

"Tell me, Pond, it really doesn't bother you that I'm so much older than you ?"

Melody didn't take the question lightly. He saw her frown and kept the silence for a moment, with a straight face. Then she took his face in her palms and looked into his dark eyes.

"It's true... You're old, Sweetie. There, in your eyes, you're old. But strangely," she smiled and her fingers stroked his spiky hair, pulling them back, "You're young, too. And that's what I like about you, and that's what I see. You're ageless."

John hid, with a laugh, the emotion that rose in him at those words, and gestured with a wave of his hand at his own form. "I was talking about this, Pond !"

She shrugged and said, "Not quite decrepit, as I already told you in your office, and I could even go for pretty boy. But deep down, I don't care. It's what is in here," she patted his forehead with her fingertips, "and here," she said placing a full palm of warmth to his chest, where his heart was beating," which is important."

The echoes of another _pretty boy_ barely reached John's ears, because the rest was so much more important. Once again she seemed to see him. Him. And nothing else.

The time of the farewells arrived much too quickly for his taste, a few minutes later, and Melody released his hand before kissing his cheek, ready to leave him.

As she walked away, the Doctor couldn't restrain himself. He grabbed hold of her wrist - shuddered at the glimpse of the yellowish bruise, legacy of their last meeting - and pulled her into his arms to hold her for a moment against him, in one of those hugs he loved so much, before. Then he buried his nose in her curly hair. They were so soft. It was then that he realized that he loved her scent, which he only now experiencing for the very first time, except this wasn’t simply just an ethereal fragrance in the air or on his coat. And it was wonderful.

There was something about her which awakened his protective instinct, without even his understanding on why. The part of the Doctor within him would have liked to keep her always within sight, within arm's reach. She was precious, drummed his heart and mind as one. Too precious for him to risk losing her.

This friend, so precious, never asking him for more than he offered. She was simply enjoying the present moment, with him, as if they had all the time and space to know each other. But sometimes he felt she maintained a certain distance, as if she refused of engaging too much. He sometimes felt cracks, underneath the laugh, she refused to show him. And he got the feeling that it would drive him mad, if he couldn't find out who was hiding under her perpetual smile.

Finally he felt Melody start to break away from him after their moment together in his embrace. She whispered,

"Goodbye, Doctor" in his ear, then she stepped back, still with that smirk, sharing with him that which was now a memory for both of them. A joke that went on, and was back as his name.

Outside, winter was settling down.

 

 


End file.
